If Hollywood Don't Need You
by Gillian Deverone
Summary: Finn hears a song on the radio that causes him to think about Rachel and the choices they are and aren't  making.


AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first fan-fiction as a writer. (I've read thousands, but until I heard this song on AOL radio the other day, I had never known what to write about other than the awesomeness that is Finchel.)

I welcome comments and constructive criticism.

Disclaimer: I don't own the song "If Hollywood Don't Need You" by Don Williams or "The Dance" by Garth Brooks and I really don't own "Glee", but if I did, Rachel and Finn would have had sex a lot sooner than they did—and it would have shown as much as the Fox sensors would have allowed.

"…at least I don't think it is." The line repeats over and over in his mind, mocking him, threatening some precarious balance that he has set up in his mind when it comes to thoughts he has about _his_ future and _Rachel's_ future and _their_ future. Sometimes, the three mesh and he is so happy and carefree and when he makes love to her, he feels that tether that he has been thinking about daily since Sue's sister's funeral. Other times, her future is their future and he doesn't know where he fits; the purse holding the Kurt mentioned often flashes across his mind. On bad days, he sees his future and their future, but hers has dimmed, not burned out completely, but certainly not her on Broadway. In those moments of doubt, she blames him and so does he, though he's sure it's not his fault.

Finn doesn't doubt Rachel's talent. It's the one thing he never doubts—never. However, no matter how talented Rachel is (and the same goes for Kurt) that doesn't mean that her dreams will come true. He thinks of all those people on "American Idol" and "The Voice" who have great voices and they don't make it—even the ones who win. Rachel's voice is one in a million, but there are more than one million people trying to make it to the bright lights of Broadway.

Finn does doubt himself, more than people probably know. He isn't super smart and doesn't have great grades. What he thought he was good at (football) turned out to not be the ticket he needed. He can sing and play the drums and his dancing has improved and Kurt's words about how he's "hot" and such (which don't the scare the crap out of him like they used to) keep tap dancing on his skull. Maybe he is good enough. Not great, but isn't that what college is for? To make you better?

His thoughts are interrupted by a soft knock from his mother. She is careful with him these days, as if she is dealing with an egg that is precious but very vulnerable. Ever since she told him about his father, he knows that she feels guilty and unsure and scared. In a way, he feels bad for her—having to carry that secret around for so long, hoping not to break Finn's heart, which she had. Another part hates her, wants to hurt her in some way, punish her. Finn sighs; his mom was all he had for 16 years before Burt showed up and he doesn't want to punish her—not really. "Yeah?"

She pushes the door open and smiles, tentatively. "Burt just called. He took Kurt's SUV to the shop to tune it up and it broke down on Wilshire. Can you take his truck over there? I would, but it's a stick..." She trails off. "If you don't want to…" she tries again.

Finn looks up at her and smiles, tentatively. He wants her to know that it is going to be okay, somehow, someway. That he'll get over what he now knows about his father. That he's not who he used to be. That he's grown. Being with Rachel and apart from Rachel and pretty much everything that has happened to him since he joined glee club has made him stronger, more resilient, and he'll find a way to forgive his mother—and hopefully, some day his father. "I'll go." It's the least he can say to her, but also the most.

She smiles. Carole seems to take the acquiescence as he intended it: "I'll go" loosely translated to mean, "I love you, Mom, and I forgive you and it'll all be okay."

"Where are the keys?" Finn asks, throwing a hoodie over his polo.

She dangles them from her finger. "He's across from the McDonald's. If you find him _in_ the McDonald's, you have my permission to beat him." They both chuckle and Finn thinks maybe everything will be okay.

He grabs the keys, goes down the stairs, out the front door and towards Burt's truck. It's much newer than Finn's, a Ford F-250, bright red, custom wheels, all that stuff. Finn thinks, for just a second, that if he stayed in Lima and ran Burt's tire shop that he would probably get to keep the truck. This truck just wouldn't look right in Washington, D.C. But, then see Finn sees Rachel's face if he told her he was staying for a truck (no matter how awesome) and he frowns. He starts it up and heads towards Wilshire Street, careful as he backs down the driveway. (Finn isn't really a bad driver anymore, but after you've run down a postal worker, people tend to think maybe you aren't safe.)

The music is turned on low, so Finn turns it up. If this were his truck, he'd hear some classic rock or perhaps a Barbara CD if Rachel had been in recently. If it were Kurt's SUV he's probably find the same, is though Finn has noticed the Kurt does have a lot of Miley Cyrus on his iPod and that surprises Finn. He has filed it away for later. Burt, though a fan of classic rock, also has a penchant for classic country. Finn doesn't mind a little country now and then, but Burt listens to classic—like Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, old stuff. This is no different, a haunting melody and a smoky, male voice, but just as Finn is about to hit another preset button, the words hit him:

_Well you know I'm not much good at writin' letters  
>So I gave up and decided that I'd call<br>Naw' there's really not much new to tell ya  
>Things back here they never change at all<br>It snowed today, its cold here for November  
>But I hear the weather's warm out there<em>

It isn't until the chorus, though, that Finn realizes that this may be a song he doesn't want (need?) to hear right now:

_Oh, and if you see Burt Reynolds  
>Would you shake his hand for me<br>And tell ol' Burt , I've seen all his movies  
>Well, I hope you make the big time<br>I hope your dreams come true  
>But if Hollywood don't need you<br>Honey I still do_

Finn doesn't think Burt Reynolds has ever been on Broadway (and how the hell old is this song anyway?) but he knows that sometimes he's thinking this exact same thing. Trade out Hollywood for New York and Burt Reynolds for Patti Lupone or Bernadette Peters and you have what he thinks of when he thinks he isn't good enough, when he thinks that Rachel is a fool to have said yes, to want to marry him, to assume that he'll be something (anything) someday.

_Last night I drove the truck to Amarillo  
>Some friends and I we had a laugh or two<br>But lately we don't cut up like we used to  
>Cause all that I can think about is you<br>Well, I know this is what you've always wanted  
>But I know now that all I want is you<em>

He can see it now. He and Puck, maybe Rory and Sam, all in a truck (this one?) headed for Cincinatti, the big city, to cut loose, have some fun, maybe hit on a few girls. But, he'd miss Rachel the whole time. It wouldn't matter if she was in New York or Los Angeles or Timbuktu, he'd miss her. The chorus repeats and Finn feels haunted:

_So if you see Burt Reynolds  
>Would you shake his hand for me<br>And tell ol' Burt , I've seen all his movies  
>Well, I hope you make the big time<br>I hope your dreams come true  
>But if Hollywood don't need you<br>Honey I still do  
><em> 

He turns on to Wilshire Street from Main, spots the McDonald's on the left, Burt on the right, standing, staring at Kurt's car, as the last lines repeat two or three times in that same whiskey-stained voice that Finn has been listening to for what feels like six hours, but can have only been a few minutes:

_But if Hollywood don't need you_

_Honey, I still do_

Before he turns to Burt, before he begins to help with whatever is wrong with Kurt's SUV, before they "shoot the shit" (a term that Kurt deems vulgar), before Burt chances to ask if Finn is okay, if he is ever going to talk to his mother, before Finn accidentally tells Burt that he proposed and Rachel said yes, he makes a promise to himself. It is unlike any other promise he has ever made, because he knows that he absolutely 100% will not break it: No matter what it takes, no matter what classes he has to do better in, how many college letters and forms he has to write, no matter how much shit he has to take from Kurt to help him, no matter what, he will not end up like the guy in the song. He doesn't want to roll around the streets of Lima, crying for a girl who is thousands of miles away, longing for a girl who wanted him, agreed to be his wife, and he was too stupid or too stubborn or too afraid to be happy that he let her slip away. He promises himself that he'll only see their future from now on, and it will included a happy Finn with no purses and a happy Rachel, with a Tony in one hand and Finn's hand in her other.

Finn smiles. It isn't a happy smile or a sad smile. It is a smile of knowing that for once, you aren't going to fuck it up. And then he sings a line, just one, from a country song that he does know and does like and fits him better: "And for a moment, all the world was right." Then, he opens the door and goes to see if he can help Burt.

Please: If you took time to read, take time to review! Thanks!

(Thanks to Brooke, my sister, who doesn't read fan fiction and laughs at me for doing it, but was my Beta and pretends that my obsession with Finchel is healthy and normal.)


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